dee-voss

[dee-voss]

"Nursing school. Intense." To say the least. Maybe too little? Yeah; way too little, given what he owed the profession. "It's a lot of a thing to be, a nurse. For anybody, I'd think. I've, uh," Dee twitched that burnt-up hand, the scars still an angry red in the golden, dust-moted air. "Known a few." Dozens, probably. All run ragged and worn-hearted and doing it anyway, the work. Saving lives and limbs and what scraps of sanity anybody could stitch together, in the sorts of places they'd been. "Anything medical's just - yeah. A hell of a career, to go after. My girlfriend's gonna be a doctor. We've been saving for ages, for school, it's - well, you know what it is." Or she'd have a pretty good idea, at least, if she'd been taking nursing classes. Hadn't got any cheaper, while he was away. Nothing had...

(Christ. Zero to some low sort of thought, in sixty seconds or less; his goddamn head ran like a Corvette, when it came to driving the mood down.)

Dee tanked up on another lungful of smoke. "Anyhow. Hope they treat you okay, while you... figure out whatever is meant for you." Not a way of thinking he'd ever really dwelled on all too much, if he was honest; Elly, she could've understood. Elly, with her big plans for medical school, doing good. He - he was just meant to help her do all that, become everything she'd ever wanted to be, build the life they'd spent so long picturing, together. As ambitions went, like... that'd always been the grandest Dee'd ever needed. More than enough. More than he could've imagined for himself, in all honesty.

No wonder he'd just about lost it for good when those letters stopped coming - the sheer scale of what he'd lose, what'd leave him, with Eloise Meadows. Except she hadn't, and... fuck, as Janine doddered back into view, shaking her head, it was looking like his chances of ever finding out what the hell had actually gone on were none rather than slim. A blue-grey sigh gusted out of him, at that. Maybe it was one of those mysteries best forgot, anyway. Somehow...

As much as Nour was desperate to pretend that she met Dee under different circumstances, the weight of her guilt was simply too much for her to consider otherwise. She felt awful. He was clearly confused, and the desire to be liked by him begged to tell the truth. A part of her regretted meeting him in such a vulnerable way and wished he was just a little bit more awful.

"Before... uh, nothing. I've been here for a bit longer than a couple of years... we're actually coming up on year nine." She's a bit shy when she says it, but it's really because saying the years out like that was sort of a wake-up call. Nour realizes the length of time she's spent being a mail courier, and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. Had she really been here for that long? Was she really going to make it to year ten? "I was in nursing school before this," she nods, looking off to the side. "It... uh," she gulps, immediately uncomfortable even mentioning her time there. "It wasn't really meant for me." She meets his gaze again, her grip on her lunch bag getting tighter.

[dee-voss]

Should've been sooner, but. Dee half-nodded through that prickle of guilt. He'd needed a little longer than he'd figured to find his way to some kinda privacy; there should've been plenty. (Who needed a house this size? Christ.) But the whole damn town had turned out, seemed like, and so he'd had to go hunting. Toking in a bathroom was too damn high school - that was the kind of smoke he'd needed, though. Just a couple drags to quiet the way all those singed nerve endings had got to buzzing, like white-hot filaments about to burst inside a bulb. Then a minute, two, in the night. Just to air out. Soak it in.

And come back better. If a touch out of it. That Dee? He blinked, about as surprised as Nour. "Guess so? Wouldn't've figured there were too many of us to choose from," he grinned, starting on the glass of champagne he'd snagged on his way back in. No, he'd... never met another, come to think of it. "Yeah, we -" Dee paused, trying to think of how best to put that. How they'd met, already. Elly didn't need the details; the first time, that'd been a private sort of thing. Breaking down, like that, it always was. He wasn't gonna embarrass Nour any by bringing it up. Or - or get into what'd taken him to the post office, for their second meeting. Seeing as he hadn't solved any of that, anyway...

"We have." There. Enough. "That's sweet, man," he added, veering towards what Elly'd said about who Nour was, to her. One of my best friends. Cool. God knew he'd needed plenty of friends, over there. Of course Elly would've, too. "I'm just - I'm glad you had some more people around, for everything." That smile curled high enough to scatter crow's feet around his tired eyes, sliding from Nour to Eloise; always, back to Eloise. "Elly's as good as it gets, hey? Best friend anybody could ever hope for," he went on, smiling through a soft kiss to Elly's temple. His best friend, and then some.

@nourfk

I just need to find him. Nour smiled, but she was sure Elly was too wrapped up in finding Dee to figure that her eyes said otherwise. As she started looking amongst the crowd, Nour began panicking. Every fiber in her being was begging her to escape. She started to reason that Elly would understand if she told her she wasn't feeling well. That they always had 'next time.' As far as she knew, Nour was as excited to meet Dee as much as Elly wanted them to meet. She had to be happy. But she wasn't— and she knew she'd feel this way, one way or another, but she never imagined it'd be this soon. It was a silly thought, of course. Nour had known Dee for a few months now, but she supposed it was her own delusion that protected her from what was real. And now, it was coming to bite her in the ass.

She spotted him almost the same time Elly did. She immediately looks away, hoping he wouldn't spot her right away. Nour turns off to the side as he makes his way closer, fixing her hair and outfit nervously. She heaves a deep breath as they start speaking, turning slowly with a pressed grin. Their eyes meet and Nour responds by raising her brows in an effort to seem surprised. She was a good liar, but that only proved to be true in letters and over the phone when she'd talk to her parents. She didn't really know if that was also true in person. "Oh!" she pulls back, pointing at him. Her heart starts beating fast, but she ignores it. Or, at least, she tries. "Dee? —Wait, you're that Dee?" Every line made her stomach churn, her smile falling every time she didn't have to speak. @eloisemeadows

[dee-voss]

By Art Greenspon, near Hue, April 1968

[dee-voss]

Dee hooked Elly's little finger with his own, making their promises just like they had for forever. Or just about, anyway. "Deal." Yeah, breakfast in bed had got her good. He'd head out early - God knew he'd be awake, as if he made it through a night solid - to pick up a few things, as the stores opened. Make sure it was the big deal it oughta be. Would anywhere still have sunflowers? Maybe. He'd find out.

And if his smirk tilted towards smug at that bit about bait, well. Who could blame him? Looking at Elly, with that smile of hers; cheek still just about sparking from that kiss, like they hadn't been all over each other since he got home. Home, with her, at long fucking last. "Hook, line, and sinker, yeah. Lucky me, hey? Hell of a catch." She sure was. God, they could get back to actually planning their day, now, the wedding they'd done so much waiting on - finally, her family be damned. Just like they'd sworn, after his number got called. "Just gotta survive the rest of the whole murder mystery, first," he teased, leaned in tight to her side, eyes closing like that'd settle the dizzy, sore spin his head was slipping into as the evening went on, his back stiffening up moment by moment under that suit jacket. Still - as nights went, he'd had worse. So much fucking worse. "Like our chances..."

Eloise might be grumbly about it, but she was still nodding in agreement as she tucked further into him. She had to admit, she didn't feel great and she'd like to feel better instead of consistently feeling like crap. If that meant taking a day or two and actually dragging herself to the doctor, so be it. ....Or so she was saying now. She might be singing a different tune come morning if she still felt gross, but she'd already given him full permission to nag her into compliance. "Cross my heart," she agreed with an over-exaggerated roll of the eyes (paired with a smile, at least, before she ducked in to kiss his cheek). "Provided I'm not feeling better, we'll go to the doctor tomorrow." Because, well, if she had to go she was dragging him along with her, especially since he'd already offered to drive. "After breakfast, in bed, because you've already bribed and I took the bait."

[dee-voss]

🐝  *  ―  𝑪𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑳 𝑸𝑼𝑰𝒁. ( send one or multiple of these to learn a little more about my muse(s). )

[ mai tai ]  if they could have any superpower in the world, what would they choose? [ white russian ]  what would they do if they won the lottery? [ grasshopper ]  what / who would they dress up as for halloween? [ tequila sunrise ]  how would they spend their perfect day? [ californication ]  what do they think is their greatest achievement in life? [ caipirinha ]  if they could change one thing about themself, what would it be? [ painkiller ]  what is their greatest regret? [ moscow mule ]  if they could travel through time, where would they go? [ dry martini ]  what is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to them? [ tom collins ]  which living person would they most want to meet? [ greyhound ]  if they could have a dinner with just one person ( dead or alive ) who would they choose? [ planter's punch ]  how long does it take to befriend them? [ sangria ]  do they have any special routines they follow every single day? if yes, which? [ whiskey sour ]  what is the biggest lie they ever told someone? [ zombie ] do they believe in life after death? [ margarita ]  what are their biggest pet peeves? [ mojito ]  what is one goal they are working towards? [ appletini ]  who do they consider the most important person in their life? why? [ cosmopolitan ]  what is their happiest memory ever? [ gin tonic ]  who influenced them the most? [ bloody mary ]  what would they do if they only had one week left to live? [ manhattan ]  where would they like to travel the most? [ old fashioned ]  what would their adult self tell their kid self if they could go back in time? [ blue lagoon ]  how do they typically react when faced with something they fear? [ sidecar ]  what type of person are they most likely drawn to? [ negroni ]  what is one piece of advice they would give others? [ hurricane ]  which song describes them the most? why? [ sex on the beach ]  what do they consider red flags in a relationship? [ mimosa ]  which incident shaped them the most? [ long island iced tea ]  if they had the chance to redo their life, what would they do differently the second time around? [ mint julep ]  which was their dream job as a kid? [ singapore sling ]  how do they react to disappointments? [ alexander ]  what would they do with one million dollars / euros / pounds / whatever currency they use? [ screwdriver ]  which habit do they wish they could get rid of? [ gin fizz ]  do they consider a glass half-full or half-empty? [ aperol spritz ]  which is one thing they still think about a lot? [ piña colada ]  how do they show affection? [ swimming pool ]  what is the most important lesson they've learned in recent years? [ b52 ]  how would they describe themselves in as few words as possible? [ daiquiri ]  do they believe in true love? why or why not?

[dee-voss]

Job hopping, yeah; Dee hummed an understanding sort of note. Would he have taken that over what he had going on, now? In a heartbeat. But it'd been three goddamn years, and everybody he used to do that sort of shit for had someone new. Or wasn't looking. Or wasn't looking for somebody who'd brought the war home, at least. And even if they had - could he do any of it, anymore? For how long? All questions he'd been churning on, since he woke up in that hospital cot. But they'd never been half so fucking urgent...

Wasn't Noah's problem, though. Dude had enough. Worrying about that grandpa was one of them. "You and him need any help around the place, you let me know, hey?" That he could manage, lending a hand to a friend and a good old man. As for the festival, well. "We did, yeah. I, uh - caught a couple breaks, I guess." More than he had in any other sort of work, since. Which was... something, to think about. He was definitely thinking about it.

And Elly. God, everything on his mind, these days. "Thanks, for keeping her company. She was -" Is? Is what? What were they gonna tell people, and who, when? How much time did they even have, to make that call?

Dee stumbled on all that, fingers - good and bad - twitching around his coffee. "She'll be okay." She had to be. "I just went out for a smoke." Like Noah needed an excuse, but. Still. Dee'd gone and given one. "We'll have you over for dinner sometime, hey? Now I'm back to do the cooking," he tacked on, with something like a grin. An old joke, from the old days; Elly shouldn't need to learn her way around the kitchen, not when he had it handled. Which he did. Would. It'd all get handled.

Noah nodded in understanding, he never wasn’t entirely appreciative of any guidance Dee would provide. The guy had taken it upon himself to write when he could while he’d been away on duty after all. And now with a solid confidant being back, Noah couldn’t not take full advantage of the fact that Dee had the time to spare, considering how he likely had other pressing matters to take care of. “Thanks. It’s definitely all of that, and not as much job hopping around town.” Noah grinned. When the opportunity presented itself, the extra cash was primarily why he’d taken it. The manager position paychecks had certainly helped with his grandfather’s medical bills and the eviction notices were at least less frequent on their front door. “Trust me, he’ll be thrilled you’re back too.” He made it a point to Dee that he’d let the elder man know. 

“It’s pretty weird.” Noah shook his head with a light laugh, as he barely saw his younger siblings anymore. And they had usually been what he’d ask Dee about since he had a grasp on what it was like to take care of his own since at times, Noah didn’t think he was doing anything remotely right as a primary caretaker. “You went? I was there, in the area, but I didn’t get much of a chance to go. Worked in the lodge most of the time. I did see Eloise on Halloween though, she was looking for you.” 

[dee-voss]

"It's... likeable, yeah." Sure. But a poet, a gardener, anything? Dee gave that a real bemused sorta sideways glance. Maybe it was easier to see a future all that wide open when you didn't have history in a place. Then again, some people really could just do anything, if they got the chance. Even here.

(When did Stillwater become an even here, to him? Hadn't felt like this, before. Before the draft? Before his mom died, here and unhappy and too young, just like his dad? Before he nearly died, an ocean away, for - what? Christ. It'd seemed fine enough, before.)

She was right, though. Nothing; the cost of gas, or a bus ticket, there and back, and a day spent hitting the flags of an unfamiliar city. Wasn't too much to pay, was it? Just to see. Dee nodded, vaguely. Not sure, but... sure enough, maybe, to give it a go.

And not half so sure as he was, very suddenly, that he'd been fucking up small talk with an actual rock star. A Primrose? "Holy -" Dee blinked, straightening up some. "Sorry, I..." he circled a finger towards his own hair, because it'd be fucking rude, to point. Especially when she wasn't here, of all places, to be pointed at or out or noticed, in any sorta way. Stillwater made more sense, now. "Your hair was different, in Rolling Stone." A whole issue, plastered with pictures of a cross-country and then some tour. And - yeah. A blow up, of some kind, later; he'd heard the boys talking. Heard a few of those tracks, too. "You were on the tapes, that my girlfriend made. Lots of them. Real cool sound." That she'd lost. With all that work, and all her fucking friends. A break, she'd said, but... man, how she'd said it. Dee hesitated, there, smile slipping. "I'm sorry." Goddamn. She'd traded up to something stronger while he played, he clocked, looking at her glass. "You... want another?" He could stand for some of that. Just one.

"i like stillwater, for the record." she liked the streets and the bars and even the beach, something that never lured her back home. "it makes me feel like i could be a poet, or a gardener, or anything i wanted, really." not that hope had ever wanted something other than music. it was nice to think about it though, even if her thoughts always ended up more musical than she intended. hope hummed. "well, guess we're kinda in the same boat. you should give LA a thought. nothing to loose, huh?"

she hid a grimace. it was nice, not getting immediately recognized, but it also felt like walking on quicksand. she could never really be hope, not without the shadow of hope harris from the primroses. "yeah, me and my friends." a bitter laughter cut through her mouth, and hope finished her whiskey. what a fucking joke. "we toured and recorded and then recorded and toured. even played on tv once, you know? the primroses take over hollywood! we're on a break though. never start a band with your fucking friends unless you are okay with losing them, that's my piece of advice."

[dee-voss]

"That's the whole damn idea of a bribe, baby," he tried a grin, chased by another snuck-in, off-script kiss to Elly's freckled cheek. If breakfast in bed was bending some set of rules, those weren't any he wanted to stick with anyhow. And Elly would agree, well - if he could've took notes, he'd be taking notes. Dee nodded along, just glad she'd made it to might, to an if that could become a then that'd make sure she took care of herself. Permission to nag a little was nice, but. He'd have done it, anyway. Somebody had to. With love.

(He should've been here, to do that much; three years he'd been gone, and she'd spent all of them running herself into the ground, hadn't she? Dealing with asshole tourists and the messes they left behind.)

But he was here now. And Dee Voss could handle Elly Meadows on her worst day. Easy. He held out the pinky he could offer, seriously. "Cross your heart." Hopefully she'd finally kick this overnight, but. Just in case.

It was hard not to make a face, though somehow Eloise managed to keep her expression in check; she really didn't want to sour the evening, bring up how she'd spent the entirety of last three years doing nothing but worry about him and that it had become a habit that was proving to be impossible to shake. Of course she was worried about him, she was always worried about him and she didn't want to pass up whatever the hell this was along to him. Maybe that was the incentive she needed, to take a day or two off work to rest up and actually (maybe) go see a doctor to make sure that this was just a bug she'd caught and that everything would be right and well in a few days. "Bribery gives you an unfair advantage," Eloise mumbled, huffing out a heavy sigh though she did relent in a small nod. "I'll take the day." A good first step, and maybe that would help her get back to feeling like herself again. "I'll agree that I need to give myself that much to catch up." She was pretty convinced that she had just run herself into the ground, with working and commitments with her parents and now Dee being back. Nothing bad, but a lot. "Might," still sticking to that, "be good to take a day off for a bit of a break." They were okay, and she knew that. Eloise was such a creature of habit, and she had become so used to working more than she had been before Dee had been shipped off. Had to, for one. For another, it had been a good way to keep her busy and, more importantly, had kept her mind busy... though it had done little to keep her from worrying. As much as she disliked the idea of potentially leaving the Lodge shorthanded, it was one day. "If I'm not feeling better tomorrow, I'll go to the doctor. I'm giving you full permission now to hold me to it, even if I change my mind and get sassy and cranky about it." Because, well, that felt likely. "Pinky promise."

[dee-voss]

Didn't sound like Benny was packing up, anyway. Good. Dee might feel like a dick for thinking it, but - yeah. He'd just be grateful. "Bali," he echoed, like saying it might help him sort out where in the world that even was. It didn't. But Benny seemed to know, so. Dee'd just take his word for how unleaveable it oughta be.

Why did people leave anywhere, though? "I don't know, man. How'd you wind up here?" From wherever it was Benny had come from; he'd never got specific. Way away. Other side of the country. Dee hadn't ever pried, before. Wasn't really prying, now. Just, yeah. How'd that happen? Anyone who'd started someplace else and found their way to Stillwater had always left Dee faintly confused, but. When you grew up someplace, it could be hard, he figured, to see it clearly. For better or worse. God knew, the sights Stillwater offered up to Dee Voss were real fucking mixed.

Dee's quip earned a grin, the corner of his eyes creasing as he let out a chuckle. He never had much wanderlust. If anything, Benny was sure if he had moved anywhere near Ohio, he'd... well, it wouldn't end great. He was as far as he could get in order to find some sort of safety in his life, so it was hard to imagine moving away from here. After all, there was still a big part of him that wanted to see his mother and sister again.

Still, if he had the chance, Benny would leave the country. France. Paris. He's thought about it. He knew it was cliché, but what person interested in desserts wouldn't want the chance to attend Le Cordon Bleu? It wasn't a dream or anything, but since he lost the opportunity to take over Ruby's, he felt that maybe something else could happen. Maybe there was a chance he was meant for more.

It was a drunken thought, but he held onto it nonetheless. Loosely. "I know." Benny hung his head, nodding lightly. "I just came across a tourist earlier who told me they were coming from Bali. Just made me think," he shrugs, taking another hit. He exhales, shaking his head. "Why the hell would you leave a place like that to come here." With Hollywood around the corner, it was hard to imagine that Stillwater could compare. That didn't mean to say Benny grew tired of this sanctuary. Rather, he knew there was better out there. He knew there was better for him. Then again, with all of his hang-ups, it was hard to completely leave that behind.

[dee-voss]

Right. Details. Numbers had always come a bit easier than words, letters, but... not much easier, and he hadn't planned that far ahead. Dee slid the Gibson's strap off his shoulder, set the guitar on the nearest empty chair and rolled that sleeve up, clearing her would-be canvas, considering as the tattoo lady went on. He cocked his head, taking in that drawing; nodded, yeah. Better than Charlie's, by miles. That was alright - Charlie wouldn't be coming around to take offense, or anything. Charlie'd never be coming around at all.

Not-quite clearing his throat of that familiar ache, Dee threw her a half-shrug. "Uh - bigger, let's go with that..." Not like he had to worry about showing up to the office with "unprofessional" ink on. "You go ahead and do your thing, with the rest. Artistic license, right. But just the one flower." He only had the one girlfriend, after all. Not something every GI wandering the streets of Saigon could've said. And as for the cost... he estimated high, figured what seemed like a cool tip, and brought his tips out of his shirt pocket to count the bills. "I'm good for it," Dee promised, counting twice, careful, before he set it all on the counter. Might be generous, but - she'd been generous, and it was late, man. Just seemed decent. Especially when he was buying something permanent.

With a quick up-and-down, Joselia took stock of the man in front of her. Probably a vet, definitely shitfaced, and-- aww-- a bit of a romantic. Planting her feet on the ground, Joselia quirked an eyebrow at his proposition, and the lazy line he drew around his forearm. "So, like, three inches? Or closer to five?" she asked, motioning for him to roll up his sleeve. "How many?-- and do you want stems and leaves or just, like, center and petals?" she asked, making quick work locating a couple already-drawn sunflowers in her notebook and pointing them out to him. Quite fucking cheery, but whatever he wanted. Joselia's gaze softened at his explanation, and she leaned against the counter, edge of her mouth pushing upwards. "Okay, Romeo, I'll shoot you straight-- a three-inch bare bones outline'll be fifteen. Extra five per inch plus another five for shading. All that includes the for my girlfriend discount. So, what'll it be?"

[dee-voss]

More company. Throwing a peace sign around his drink, Dee finished the sip he'd started and swapped the cup to his worse hand, so he could offer Nicky the better one for a shake. "Hey." Good friend, Nicky. (New friend, Dee? Phoenix made them fast, apparently. Alright.) And this dude played The Mint? Damn. About as much of a star as anybody could be, in Stillwater. Was Nicky just fucking with her, or was Phoenix that good, too? Dee glanced between the two of them. "Why not the both of you?"

Why not, yeah? "Probably some money in it," he tacked on, encouraging. Yeah; yeah, there would be. All these bands had to get paid, right? Then there'd be tips. You still got tips at a thing like this, didn't you? And maybe even a little extra, seeing as they'd be sparing the festival people some embarrassment and unhappy customers... a stupid fucking idea turned his head back towards that still-empty stage. Not that stupid, it was just - it was a lot of an audience, shit. But. Before he could stop himself. "If, uh, you could use somebody on guitar, to go with..." Dee let that trail off. If they went up there at all, the offer was out there. Even if his heart had hit double-time, at the thought.

He saw Phoenix before anyone else — all red hair and energy radiating out into the room. That was the nature of a fuckin' crush, he supposed. So, of course, he was all smiles and dimples and teeth, and... she was with someone? In all his time getting to know Phoenix, as they did this slow descent into friendship, it never occurred to him that she'd be seeing someone. It just seemed so out of character for everything they'd spoken about. Maybe it was new.

While he was working his mind around this little factoid, Nick realized it was better to be caught making his way over to his friend than it was staring across the room at her, so he started to follow through: one foot in front of the other, while the news of the cancellation of the upcoming act rippled through the crowd, producing waves of raucous disappointment.

He came to a stop just in time to hear a muttered comment about opening up the mic, and figured there was no better way to launch himself into the conversation than: "Yeah, you're right. Get on up there, Phoe." Alongside a classic Nick Park grin, of course.

[dee-voss]

[dee-voss]

Well, shit. That - sounded a way, didn't it? Like the voice of experience, or something. Dee just clicked his tongue, tipped his head, not sure what to make of it; at least he wasn't the only one getting grim, around here. Kinda refreshing, though. More real than most of the rose-tinted crap you heard about shooting for the stars.

Pretty little Stillwater. He had to laugh, but not meanly, or anything. Stillwater was home, after all. "Oh, yeah. Spoiled for choice." So many possibilities. Like landscaping summer homes for out-of-towners or repaving roads. Or playing weekends, sure, at the legion bar or the biker den, or the Mint, if he really moved up in the world. Shaking his head, Dee sighed out smoke. A perfect bum - made one of them. The hours between gigs were still getting to him, too quiet and too lonely when Elly was off at the Lodge. "Not much, lately." He flicked his scorched hand up and down the rest of him, the explanation all there. Nobody wanted to think about 'Nam, nevermind employ a walking reminder.

And maybe LA would be different, if he gave it a shot. Not that she sounded... fond, exactly, of her big city hometown. Sort of. (Malibu. Hadn't been there, either.) "So you made a go of it, huh? On your own, or, like - with a band?" If that was her story, then... what sorta chapter was bumming around in Stillwater? Didn't seem promising, godlike, but. The hell did he know? Could be that all those breakthrough stars he'd missed while he was over in the jungle were getting into the seaside village vibe these days.

hope grabbed a clove cigarette of her own, lighting it dismissively and smoking quickly. once upon a time she would savor every little drag, taste the mix of rebellion, rock and roll and nicotine. she couldn't bring herself to enjoy much of anything nowadays, however. for the first time since the conversation started her smile was forced, her laughter bitter. "not many, i suppose. though lately i've been thinking that not making it is the best possible ending to hollywood dreams."

"what, are you telling me that pretty little stillwater is not bubbling with possibilities?" her tone was clearly ironic, but filled to the brim with a girlish mirth. hope did, after all, quite like the town so far. she wouldn't be stalling there if she didn't. "i'm sure you could play on a weekend as well." she joked, finishing her cigarette and putting it out on the nearby ashtray. "what do you do when you're not amusing this wonderful audience? no judgments here, i've been a perfect bum the last few weeks." her mother would certainly have a choice few words about her avoidant behavior. good thing catherine harris didn't have her daughter's phone number.

"oh, i was born in LA. well, malibu, but same thing in the end. then i got out of there and back again and then out again." she shrugged. perhaps her own experiences were not the best way to convenience someone to take a chance on LA. "the city can run people dry. it can also turn them into gods. but that never really mattered to me, just... the music."

[dee-voss]

Not much. Dee took that with a tired nod and a needful drag, jaw a little tighter. Wasn't any kinda surprise, right. "Appreciate the honesty." He meant that, really; Even though Nour was just doing delivery, like she'd said, she'd know better than he would how unlikely a real answer was. Kinder to admit the facts of the thing than spin too-hopeful bullshit. "Yeah, it's - it all went through a whole lotta hands, I guess..." Still. He'd just had to ask.

At least he wasn't alone, waiting on whatever the postmaster probably wouldn't turn up. Cheeks hollowing, he took that smoke in, let it slip away slow as Nour talked work. Maybe he just kept catching Nour on bad days, but... that uneasy edge made it hard to picture her surviving most of the jobs that came to mind. Like Elly's, with all those people to deal with, tourists, quick to get pissed and bitch over nothing. Waiting tables, running a till at Crawford's, pouring drinks - same reason. The post office, all that walking, alone - seemed a good fit, with what she'd shown so far. Peaceful. No rush. Hardly any assholes to put up with, he'd think. And a mental game, sure, she seemed like she'd be into that sorta thing. "Cool. Well, hope they stay good to you. Nothing like a shitty boss to fuck up a solid gig." He'd had his share. Nour'd have it worse. "What'd you do before?" Just a couple years, she'd said - she seemed about him and Eloise's age, thereabouts. Left a lot of time to be doing something else. Dreaming of something else, like Elly always was...

Nour wasn't sure why she asked him that. She was painfully aware that the more she stuck around, the more guilt she felt, and the more guilt she felt, the harder it'd be to hide the truth. She didn't always feel that way, but meeting Dee changed everything. At first, it started with an episode of overthinking. She realized what was so great about him the day after meeting him. She had wondered if Elly's words of him were true, but it didn't take more than a few minutes for Nour to agree. Sure, one could say she was rushing to place him on some pedestal, but Nour would argue that it was hard to find people, let alone a man, to even have a fraction of his kindness. The idea weighed on her so heavily that she felt terrible now for her flighty reputation. She wanted to help him in any way she could (within reason, of course), but the moment he spoke of mail, Nour felt that same chill go up her spine.

Still, it didn't click right away. Of course, it was a mail issue. They were in the kingdom of letters and parcels. Nour would have nightmares and dreams about this place. That much didn't surprise her. It was when he continued that Nour began putting things together. Her last letter must've left only a few days before Dee's arrival. The timing was all off. She breathed —finally, but it didn't help. She found it difficult to relax, haunted by the letters. Nour hoped that now that Dee was here and there were no more letters to be sent, what she had done would just disappear. It would go away and she'd never have to face the music. But now, the whole damn band was in her face.

"—Right," she nods, apologetic. There's a beat. "The most we can do is make a few calls, but you're right... There's not much we can do." Another beat. "The postmaster might know more, though. I guess there's some truth to just being the one that delivers them." She rubs the back of her neck, persistent in the belief that Dee could feel the awkward tension between them. She could even hear it in his words and the way he shifted his gaze just as much as her. Trying to make her more comfortable, no doubt. "For a couple of years now, yeah," she nods. "If you're not too bothered by either of those things, it's more of a mental game, with the memorizing and the time you have to yourself. It can be nice if it suits you."

[dee-voss]

Yeah, he saw that; the crinkle between Elly's brows. He'd brought the night down a notch, been a dick. Dee kissed her fingers in a kind of quiet apology as she finished dealing with the evidence of how they'd screwed with the whole whodunnit storyline. He nodded, unsurprised that she hadn't even considered a check-up. She'd hoped; of course she had, that's what Elly did. And she'd been working so hard, for so long - and so much harder, the last few years. Too much. Until it'd become some kinda normal, now, to grind along whatever the weather, and... yeah, maybe she should book some time, break from the habit. That's what it was, working too fucking hard. He'd know.

Dee tucked Elly ina little closer into his side, abandoning that champagne she'd passed on to the sideboard so he had another hand to hold her with. Arms full of Elly. "Might not," he echoed, in a more-than-might sort of way.

"You don't have to worry about me, hey?" Where'd she even got a thought like that? "And the Lodge'll deal. Better to take a day or two, get well, you know? We're okay." They were, just - they could be better off, sure. That was his fault, though. Him and the Army's. He'd fix that. He would. And a long weekend wouldn't break them, in the meantime. "Call in. Rest up. I'll do a real breakfast and everything," Dee teased, gently. "I'm not above bribing you, baby." Never.

Eloise frowned a little at the tone of the laugh, eyebrows pulling together just slightly for half a beat. She almost said something, almost, about how she didn't mean it like that but wasn't sure if she wanted to risk spoiling the mood by extending it forward. It was the eternal stupid elephant in the room, and one that Eloise wasn't looking to face that night. No, she spent enough time focused on that particular hurtle and would rather not have to deal with jumping it again tonight, not when she was trying to enjoy something she had been looking forward to. Nope, better to just let that one go. Couldn't let the other issue go as well, though. Not that lucky. Too many damn elephants in the room. Eloise sighed a little, wiping off the last of that lipstick stain with the pad of her thumb as she shook her head. "I didn't think it was going to stick around this long, whatever it is," she admitted, that frown deepening. "I just keeping hoping that it's going to clear up and I'll be right as rain again." Wasn't happening anytime soon, judging by the week she'd had. "So no, I hadn't really given much thought into being seen. Putting it off, I guess." That frown progressed into something of a pout, and she sighed again. "Maybe I should, I don't know. I'm starting to wonder if it's the flu or something, and the last thing I want is to get you sick." The thought of calling off of work was definitely something she had been putting off as well, and she bit at the corner of her lip as she thought. "I just hate leaving them short at the Lodge." But at least it wasn't prime tourist season anymore. "Sleeping in for once does sound nice," she admitted, and knew then and there that it'd show just how off she'd been feeling with the early bird she always was. "Might not be a bad idea."

[dee-voss]

Probably the first test he ever passed. Dee threw her a grin around that cigarette he was starting back up, and had a smoky snort as the review came in. Unpolished? Alright. He flourished his good hand, tipped his head in a half-serious sorta bow. Like he even knew what unpolished meant, in guitar. But Ginger seemed happy enough, anyhow. Probably just the beer. Setting his Gibson aside, Dee leaned into his better knee and took another look at her, still wondering. She didn't just have one of those faces; she had a specific face, from someplace. Shit, though. LA? He pulled a bit of a face at the unlikeliness of that, his bone-deep aversion to high hopes kicking in hard. "Mm. And how many of them get anything much out of it? In the end."

Jesus; way to kill the goddamn mood. Tuning himself up, Dee huffed a blue-grey sigh over his shoulder. "I mean, I don't know, like - if I had much of anything else going on, for work, I wouldn't be playing small town bars. On a weeknight. So." Maybe there wasn't much he could lose, stopping by to try his luck in the city. He shrugged, and took a deep, genuinely thoughtful drag. "That what you're gonna do?" With that guitar she knew her way around.

to many (perhaps most) making it was all about the stardom. the fancy hotel rooms, magazine covers, drugs, sex and everything that came with a big name. to hope, though, it had always been about music. her music, sure, but lately thinking about that was too hurtful, too much like grieving something she would never have again. after all, it was not just her music, but their music.

this, however, was different. feeling the chords of a gibson pass through her body, familiar notes given new life by a stranger, the musical rush no drug was ever able to imitate. hope smiled unabashedly, clapping and hooting like she saw so many people doing on the front row of her concerts. she would have to sneak a twenty in that tip jar later.

unable to keep still for too long, she jumped out of her seat when the mini set ended, bouncing to the stage with only a minor hobble. "you are good." is what she said contently. "unpolished, sure, but man, it's been too fucking long since i've heard that." she sat down next to him on stage, eyeing the set up with a sort of wistful glint. a stage was a stage, be it in stillwater or new york. the music remained the same. "most people with that kind of talent are all out there trying their luck in the city of angels, you know. i'm pretty glad i get to hear some good fucking music, though."

[dee-voss]

He just needed some air, before he headed home from that last gig. Air, yeah, more than a walk; his bad leg was buzzing behind that one-too-many he might've had, as the night went on. Just buzzing, though, the familiar prickle and pull and ache pushed back, for a moment, with the rest of everything. Like the sort of sense that would've kept Dee going past the Joint, instead of heading inside. With an idea.

The place was almost dead empty, which might've been a bad thing; no waiting around for that sober(er) second thought to show up. Instead, a lady was eyeballing him over her drawings, ready to get down to business. "Uh, it's - more of a... replacement? Lost the last one..." A laugh snuck out of him there, a little sheepish, a little shitfaced. Just a little. (Like Hope'd said. That's all.) But, business. "Sunflowers? Right here, like..." Dee drew a finger around his forearm, the one that hadn't got cooked. "Just the lines. Nothing crazy. How - how much would that run me, you think?"

The cost was more of an issue than the time, but... fuck it, the money'd been good tonight. And he'd wanted to bring Charlie's made-in-Saigon stick and poke home for Elly to see. He really had. Before it got burnt off. "It's for my girlfriend," he explained, the heat in his cheeks more to do with that, definitely, than the whiskey. "They're her favourite, so - yeah."

open starter, at the joint tattoo + piercing, just before 11 p.m. @swstarters

Weekdays were always slow, and after the four-hour back piece she'd completed this afternoon, Joselia was grateful for a breather. Cigarette dangling between her lips, she propped her boots up on the desk and doodled in the flash book. Her dad had always reckoned Joselia was some kind of artist, what with her 'bohemian soul', but she was twenty-one before she discovered her love for visual art. A late bloomer, or maybe she just never had time for artistic pursuits in between Daddy's ups and downs.

When the front door jingled open, Joselia peered up from her sketchbook and surveyed the customer. She leaned forward, lips curling upwards. "Please tell me you've got something nasty that needs to be covered up," she teased. "What is it-- an ex's name? A mom heart?"